


Yuri on Ice Fic Dump

by Adwen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, no actual foot kink in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 05:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19078678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adwen/pseuds/Adwen
Summary: Various Yuri on Ice fics1. Shoederalla. Or, it's not that Viktor planned on getting a foot kink--rather, his plans involved a return of his inspiration-- it was just sort of thrown at his face. Literally.





	Yuri on Ice Fic Dump

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may recognize this story from way back in wewritevictuuri‘s Autotelēs week. I tried writing some more following it, but then I fell out of the fandom. Going through my folders, I actually have a lot of unfinished yoi fics so... I shall post them in a fic dump!
> 
> Since this is a place for oneshots, ideas, and stories I'm not sure if I'll be writing more of, if any of you guys want to write your own version or adopt them, feel free to do so (just let me know so I can check it out).
> 
> Also shoutout to Basia for first helping me with this story!
> 
> WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I PRESENT TO YOU: SHOEDERALLA 
> 
> Staring Katsuki Yuuri as Shoederella, Viktor Nikiforov as Prince Charming-Yet-Dramatically-Uninspired, and Phichit Chulanont as Baby Robin Hood.

It’s not that Viktor _planned_ on getting a foot kink –-rather, his plans involved a return of his inspiration-– it was just sort of thrown at his face. Literally.

A recap, first.

It’s the MET Gala 2016, machine-meets-earth theme. Viktor knows how he looks, dressed from head to toe in his own designs as he is. The fabric drapes softly as though a water-spun cape, but the magenta ombré and shining metal highlights give enough of a futuristic hint to meet the event’s standards. Viktor is water made from metal itself. Nature turned machine.

If Viktor doesn’t make it to the Top 5 best dressed list this year, he might as well just quit. Not only would his pride and long-standing winning streak be shattered, it would be the final nail the coffin that his career had become.

Viktor had been looking forward to this event. If anything could bring back his dead inspiration, it would be the place where the boundaries of ‘fashion’ and ‘crazy’ blended together seamlessly to create something completely new.

Instead, it was as dull as all the other high-end events this year had been.

Viktor snags another champagne flute and sips to hide his frustration. He isn’t the only one desperate, he notices. The man’s sharp, metallic blue mask nearly manages to disguise how terrible his teal tie is.

Nearly.

(Viktor has never seen a more horrible tie. Who is this and who let him out of the house and into the Gala wearing _that_ )

The suit is nicely done though, of clear–if less than Viktor’s own standard’s–quality. The glittering pattern of the waistcoat is a nice complement to the mask, and if Viktor’s instincts are correct, it might just follow a similar concept as Viktor’s own outfit. He lets his eyes follow the sharp lines to his feet and-

Viktor can’t recognize the shoes. He should recognize the shoes. He hasn’t seen such innovation since he got drunk on vodka and designed a collection overnight that won him his first trip into true superstar territory.

He takes another sip. Alcohol has never guided him wrong before, and his luck continues today. Gorgeous Shoes and Terrible Tie has locked eyes with him and is sauntering over.

“Did you know,” Gorgeous Shoes and Terrible Tie says, just a hint of alcohol on his breath. The man is leaning so close into Viktor’s space that he can see specs of gold in those brown eyes, can tell the moment they trail down his face and stop on his chest. “I can see your nipples.”

Viktor lightly smacks his tongue against the top of his mouth, feels the taste of champagne as he smiles. “Yes. You’re the first to tell me tonight, though.” He throws in a tried and tested wink for extra effect, except Gorgeous Shoes and Brown Eyes scrunches his nose (cute!) and laughs.

Incredible result, but Viktor is never winking while tipsy ever again.

“You’re cute,” Gorgeous Shoes and Cute Laugh tells him. “I wasn’t expecting that,” he then mumbles. Viktor is sure it is a personal whisper, one Viktor only heard due to sheer unchanged proximity.

A part of him sinks. “What were you expecting?” He can’t help but ask. If nothing else, it would give him a plan of action.

Gorgeous Shoes and Potential Heartbreak hums. “I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully. His beautiful brown eyes lock with Viktor’s again, and Viktor is graced to the slow spreading of his smile. “Dance with me?”

The music playing is a soft classical piece befitting the museum. To call it dancing music would be an insult to every waltz, and not a single person in the history of these events has ever dared dance to it. Not a single person has dared dance in these events, period. “Please,” Viktor says. Then, when he realizes how desperate that sounds, “Of course.”

His beautiful soon-to-be dancing partner laughs again as he pulls him towards a semi-empty area at the centre of the room.

Viktor will keep blundering forever if it keeps getting him that laugh.

 

 

–

 

 

Viktor’s carefully styled hair is in disarray from where Gorgeous and Amazing Dancer dragged his hands through it, and he can’t even care. He even returned the favor and undid the terrible tie which now hangs limply across his amazing partner’s neck.

His breath has never been shorter, his clothes never more rumpled. For once, Viktor can’t bring himself to care. Viktor hasn’t had this much fun in _years_.

Even now, sitting after they scandalized the half the MET Gala’s attendees and encouraged a dance mob in the other half, Viktor’s heart beats faster each time he glances at his partner.

Said wonderful man has one of his feet on the other leg’s knee as he checks over his equally wonderful shoe.

“Those are beautiful,” Viktor says.

Gorgeous Eyes and Shoes perks up, and a breathtaking smile spreads across his face. “You think so? I made them.”

Viktor didn’t think it was possible for this man to surprise him anymore than he has, and yet his eyes widen all the same. “Really?”

Gorgeous nods. “Yes, yes.” He’s snapping at the straps around his ankle, turning an adorable glare at them when his dexterity fails him.

Viktor swallows the lump in his throat and the urge to help him out. He still feels his cheeks heat the more he looks at Gorgeous (adorably) fighting with his shoe. “I’d love to make an outfit to fit them,” he blurts out. It’s clear that the shoes and the outfit aren’t one united combination, and Viktor’s fingers itch to correct that.

Gorgeous immediately stops what he’s doing, his head snapping towards Viktor. Horrifyingly, tears start to gather in his eyes and the only reason Viktor isn’t in full panic mode is because of the wobbly smile that accompanies them. Gorgeous sniffs. “You mean that?”

“Yes!” Viktor is terribly shocked to find that he isn’t even _slightly_ lying. For the first time in over a year, he can see outfits in his mind’s eye without fighting tooth and nail for them. They come to him in droves, and only the urge to keep his attention on man before him stops him from grabbing his sketchpad and making them real. “I’d love to make an entire _collection_ for your shoes.”

Viktor has never seen a more beautiful smile than the one he’s graced with in that moment. Yet another part of his heart turns into putty.

Viktor belatedly realizes he doesn’t know his name. It’s a perfect opportunity to ask, exchange numbers, (propose marriage), but before he gets a word out Gorgeous is standing on wobbly feet and bending down and _oh_.

All the blood rushes out of Viktor’s head, and he averts his eyes after a few shameless seconds. His blush is so strong he can feel the ache in his cheeks. Having this man extremely close for a few blissful seconds before they were kicked off the dance floor was nothing compared to proof of how well that suit fit him.

He only turns back when that familiar voice calls out “Viktor!”

Somehow, Gorgeous accomplished standing up what he couldn’t do sitting down: taking off not one but both of his shoes. One is brandished in front of him on an outstretched arm.

“Viktor, design a clothing collection for my shoe collection!”

The shoe is promptly flung at his face.

Viktor can’t quite manage to catch it before it smacks into his forehead. He sits there, stunned, holding a shoe in his limp hands as Gorgeous gives a self-satisfied nod, a beatific smile, and saunters through the shocked crowd.

(What does it say about Viktor that he finds all that incredibly charming?)

By the time Viktor gathers his wits to give chase, Gorgeous has escaped into the night, leaving only a shoe and memories behind.

Well, that and an aching forehead.

 

 

-

 

 

“I’m going to die,” Yuuri wails into the couch. His face can’t possibly lodge itself into the couch more than it’s doing already, but Yuuri is nothing if not determined to become one with his lumpy piece of furniture.

Yuuri wishes he had gotten more drunk, then immediately regrets that thought and thanks every god that he didn’t get drunk enough to do something stupid like start _grinding on Viktor Nikiforov_.

Except he had already done that, even without getting blackout drunk. Yuuri can even remember the texture of Viktor’s flowy robes as they danced, and then as the dance became something slightly more…indecent and liable to get him arrested.

At least being blackout drunk would erase the memories!

“It’s not that bad,” Phichit says.

Yuuri lifts his head long enough to stare at Phichit’s blurry figure accusingly. The blurry figure winces, and Yuuri resumes his quest to become inanimate and free from the worries of a sentient lifestyle.

“Okay, so it’s terrible. You threw a shoe at the most powerful man in the industry. But! You were wearing a mask! He probably doesn’t even know it was you.”

It should be comforting, but Yuuri feels it like a burning slap. Of course Viktor Nikiforov wouldn’t know who he was, even after Yuuri quite literally took off one of his prized creations and threw it at his face with the instructions to ‘make a collection for it, Viktor!’”

He pointedly huffs into the cushion. On one hand _maybe_ this isn’t career suicide, but his pride might as well have jumped into a volcano. The burnt remains were then thrown into a cheese grater, and then it was all set into the earth with a steamroller, just like Yuuri’s future in shoe design.

He’ll have to re-do his logo if he wants to recover from this. As well as his entire debut collection.

Why had Yuuri decided it was a good idea to wear his flagship design to the Gala? Worse, why did he throw it like it was a business card?!

Oh, Yuuri would be lucky if Viktor doesn’t sue his ass for this. He fled before Viktor could do more than catch the shoe, at least some part of his lizard brain recognizing the Horrible No Good TERRIBLE situation they were in. But, the logo.

It has Yuuri’s initials on it. Yuuri (thankfully) never gave out his name, but Viktor has connections. If Viktor traces it back to Yuuri, Yuuri is going to die. He won’t even return home as he flees–the disgrace would be too large. He’ll move to the farmlands of western Europe and become a cattle farmer instead, as befits his shame.

Yuuri needs to get that shoe back. He could scrape all his collection, set it all on fire so Minako doesn’t suspect the sheer faux-pass he’s committed and just thinks it an unfortunate disaster two weeks before his debut. He could start anew. He could, except.

Except Yuuri poured his heart and soul into that collection. Losing even one part of a pair feels like a hatchet to the heart.

Yuuri needs to get that shoe back. If he’s lucky and doesn’t mind heartbreak, Viktor will never realize who he is and Yuuri can move forward. Maybe Viktor already threw the shoe out (much as that thought ~~rips into his heart~~ hurts).

The problem with that: (and Yuuri can’t quite believe he’s thinking this, can’t quite believe the thoughts are memories) Viktor liked his shoe design.

Viktor wanted to design an outfit to complement his shoes.

That wasn’t how things were done. Half the shoes Yuuri had made were to complement _Viktor’s_ designs.

So if Viktor wasn’t completely and utterly insulted and hates Yuuri with every fiber of his being now (Ha! Such wishful thinking) he probably still has the shoe.

And Yuuri needs to get that shoe back.

It’s a circle he can’t quite get his head out of. Get the shoe. Viktor has the shoe. Yuuri can’t ever show his face within 500 meters of Viktor. Even if he did, Viktor knows (part of) his face and voice, since they spent so much time dancing together before it all went horribly wrong. Yuuri will be found out in five seconds and then Viktor will kill him before he can even buy his first cow.

“Yuuri~” Phichit’s voice rings loudly in his ears. “If you keep doing that you’re going to get wrinkles…”

Yuuri pushes himself up and fishes for his glasses. Vicchan has been laying on his back this whole time, and the puppy yelps as he’s dislodged. Yuuri picks him up and rubs a soothing hand over him as the way out of this mess presents itself before him.

“Yuuri,” Phichit repeats, now considerably clearer and also looking vaguely alarmed. “Why are you looking at me like I bought you all of Viktor’s 2014 Fall Collection?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri breathes. “You’re perfect.”

A pause. “Thanks?”

“Steal back my shoe for me. _Please_. It’s the only way to stop Viktor from killing me! I’ll pay!”

A longer pause, Yuuri can see the gears turning in Phichit’s head as his friend slowly puts down his phone.

“You want me to _what_ now?!”

**Author's Note:**

> SO I ACTUALLY DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT FASHION OR THE MET GALA, AND EVEN LESS ABOUT SHOE DESIGN. are there even flagship shoes? or flagship outfits for that matter? i know collections aren't actually planned around shoes/with shoes, but who knows? it might be?? AHAHAHAH
> 
> But this was fun to write and fun to reread, so I hope you enjoyed it!!!


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